


Isle of Flightless Birds

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-07-30 08:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20094373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Josh has an ordinary life. His job in a small café is relaxing, but boring sometimes. However, when a new customer shows up, his life changes forever...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for the writer´s month challenge 2019  
hope you´ll enjoy!

"One large latte, please," the blonde-haired girl said.

"Okay," Josh nodded, "and for you?"

"Uhh, I'll have one as well," the other girl wearing glasses replied after a while of thinking.

"It'll be ready soon," he smiled at them and left.

He came to the coffee machine and took out two glasses out of the cupboard. He was taking his time, no pressure. The coffee shop he was working in was almost empty. It was nice, quiet and cozy and Josh liked it that way. No stressed-out people running around, hurrying to their work with a coffee in hand. Everyone here was just enjoying the moment.

He didn't even realise how quick were the lattes done. After all the time spent working here Josh learned to do some of the tasks without thinking, automatically. He put the glasses on plates and took the coffee to the customers.

"Two large lattes," he announced as he put them onto the table.

The girls thanked him and he smiled. Such a nice afternoon. The sun was shining outside, not even a cloud to be seen on the sky.

Right next to the window was sitting a new customer. He, too, seemed to observe the crystal-clear sky outside.

Josh approached the man. "Hello, what can I get you?"

The man turned his head to Josh. He couldn't be much older than him, perhaps the same age. He was staring at Josh for a while as if he was lost in his own thoughts.

"One espresso, please," he said at last.

"It'll be ready in a minute." Josh turned around and headed back behind the counter.

While he was making the coffee for the man, Josh noticed the he took out a notebook and started writing something down. Not that it was strange, customers did it all the time. Before he could think any further, he finished making the drink.

He picked up the tray and carried it to the man's table, only to realise he wasn't there. Huh. Probably went to the toilet or something.

Josh put down the coffee next to the open notebook. He couldn't help it and briefly glanced over the lines written in it.

_I am cold, can you hear_  
_I will fly, with no hope, no fear_  
_ And the ground, taunts my wings_  
_ Plummet as I sing, plummet as I sing_

"What are you looking at?" A voice asked coldly.

Josh turned around immediately. The man returned from wherever he had been and now was standing behind him.

"I'm not looking."

"Fine." The man sat down to his notes and coffee and Josh promptly left.

Was this dude a poet or something?

Josh returned to the counter and put some used cups and plates into the dishwasher.

A weird guy... but on the other hand, he shouldn't have looked. It was none of his business.

Josh looked over at the man. He was sipping on his coffee and occasionally scribbling something into his notebook. He definitely didn't seem angry.

Good.

Josh looked away from him, trying to kick the lines out of his mind. Fortunately, one of the two girls wanted to pay for their order. Just the distraction he needed.

The girls left and Josh leaned on the counter. It was just him and the strange poet guy now.

A split second later he realised he forgot to turn on the dishwasher. Dammit. At least he could add in some cups. He made sure he turned it on this time.

Time was slowly passing and the atmosphere in the café felt... awkward at best. At least for Josh.

The poet man didn't seem to mind it at all.

But Josh did.

He regretted not minding his own business and reading personal stuff of a complete stranger instead. But he couldn't bring himself into apologizing either. Not at this point, at least. Somehow, it didn't feel _right_.

Finally, the dishwasher stopped. Josh started taking the dishes out, one by one. He had all the time in the world. A cup. A plate. Another cup. And another cup. A glass-

Someone behind him coughed.

It was so unexpected Josh dropped the glass back into the dishwasher.

"Uh, sorry for scaring you," the poet guy apologised.

"No, it's- it's okay," Josh was now turned to him, "it didn't break... Fortunately..."

"So," the man started, "I would like to pay for that coffee..."

"Yeah, yeah, in a second..." Josh trailed off as he was looking for his notes. What did the guy have?!

The man was watching him with neutral expression on his face. "You... didn't write it down."

"Oh!" Josh realised suddenly. "You're right... sooo..."

"One espresso," the man finished Josh's unspoken question.

He paid for his coffee and was just putting his credit card back into his wallet when Josh blurted out: "I'm sorry!"

The neutral expression changed to a confused one and Josh felt his cheeks turn red.

"For reading your notes." He finished quickly.

"Ah," the guy said as if he had already forgotten, "it's no big deal, really."

Josh stayed silent.

"Have a nice day!" The man said and left.

Josh was standing there, behind the counter. Well, this was weird.

Until now, his thoughts were racing. But all of them were gone now... and Josh was just sitting in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for day 16 of Writer´s Month

Tyler Joseph sat down at the table by the window. He discovered this café only a week ago but it was one of the best he's ever been to. The place was simple and quiet, not many people visited it. Even the coffee was excellent and for a good price.  
The perfect place for writing.  
"Hi, what can I get you?" the barista asked.  
Tyler smirked. It was the same guy, who read some of his unfinished notes last week.  
"A simple espresso will do," Tyler said.  
The barista nodded and left. Tyler chuckled although he knew he shouldn't. The dude seemed to be genuinely sorry but Tyler still found it kind of funny. He quickly reminded himself laughing wasn't quite right in this situation and took out his notebook and pen. Time to write.  
The barista brought him his coffee in a few moments. Tyler observed him. The man didn't seem to even notice the notebook. He'd probably forgotten already.  
Tyler kept sipping on his coffee and occasionally writing something down. He still didn't finish the song from last week. Some ideas were there, but the choice of words somehow... didn't come to him. Was it just writer's block?  
With time there was less and less coffee in his cup and also some lyrics appeared in the notebook:  
_All we are is an isle of flightless birds_  
We find our worth in giving birth and stuff  
We're lining our homes against winding roads  
And we think the going is tough  
We pick songs to sing, remind us of things that nobody cares about  
And honestly we're probably more suicidal than ever now  
Tyler finished his coffee. The lyrics seemed pretty decent. Of course, the song was _far_ from being complete but he was getting there.  
He looked around. The café was empty, except for Tyler and the guy behind the counter, who was solving a crossword out of boredom.  
The barista noticed Tyler's stare and came to his table.  
"Can I get you something?" he asked and reached for the empty cup.  
Tyler got an idea.  
"No, thank you." Instead of the cup Tyler handed him his notebook. "Can I get your opinion on this?"  
"Uhm, sure." Although he seemed confused, he took the notebook.  
"Sit down, you don't have anything to do anyway," Tyler said.  
The barista shrugged and sat down at the table, then started reading.  
"I'm no expert," he said after finishing, "but I really like it."  
"Thanks," Tyler smiled and reached for the notebook.  
The barista handed it to him. "Not everyone is a flightless bird though."  
"Hm?"  
"You see," the employee started, "the flightless birds are, like, the "normal" people, right? Those who just kinda waste their life, doing nothing special." He nervously looked at Tyler. "At least, that's how I see- "  
"No, you're- you're right, man." Tyler waved his hand. "Go on."  
"So, there are these "flightless birds", who don't dream. Or stopped dreaming. Either way they are fine with whatever life they are having at the moment. But not everyone's like that."  
"Right." Tyler nodded. "You got it..."  
"Wait," the barista interrupted him and quickly realised it, "oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to int-"  
"It's fine, it's fine," Tyler chuckled.  
The employee smiled and continued. "I remember- I read- Well, the last time you were here, I saw a bit from your notebook-"  
So he did remember.  
"Yeah, no big deal," Tyler assured him again.  
"Is this a part of the same work?"  
"It is..." Tyler turned a page in his notebook and showed him his lyrics from the last week. It wasn't much, just a few lines:  
_I am cold, can you hear_  
I will fly, with no hope, no fear  
And the ground, taunts my wings  
Plummet as I sing, plummet as I sing  
After a while of thinking, the barista said: "You are that one bird which flies."  
Tyler stayed silent. How could this random dude crack his metaphors so easily?  
"I'm sorry to hear that... that the ground taunts your wings."  
"That's fine, I'm used to it," Tyler found himself saying. He didn't know what to say.  
"I really like what you've written," the man continued.  
"Thanks..."  
"Uhm, excuse me..." A girl with short brown hair, wearing a long, white skirt came to their table. "We've been waiting for service for several minutes now- "  
"Oh, right-" The barista stood up immediately. "I'm sorry, uhm, what would you like..."  
The girl returned to her group of friends sitting at another table, the barista following her. Tyler shook his head. How did they not notice them enter the café?  
He looked at his watch. He should head home already...  
Tyler stood up, packed his notebook and pen and prepared his wallet. He picked up his empty cup with his other hand and headed to the counter.  
The barista was already preparing some coffee. He noticed Tyler putting the cup down and smiled.  
"Leaving so soon?" he asked.  
"Yeah, gotta go..." Tyler shrugged. He paid for his coffee and was about to leave, but instead he put his hand forward: "I'm Tyler."  
The barista shook his hand. "Josh."  
Josh. A cool name.  
"Nice to meet you," Tyler said.  
"You too. See you next week?"  
Tyler grinned. "Probably."  
"Well... until then!"  
"Bye!"  
Tyler left the café, honestly impressed. He'd never met someone, who could recognise the true meaning behind his words. Someone, who understood what he was talking about in his writing. Someone, who saw _him_ among the lines of the song.  
Tyler was walking home, wondering if he just met his soulmate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writer´s month 2019, day 18  
this chapter is really short but i hope you´ll enjoy anyway :)

A few days have passed since Tyler's last visit of the café and Josh couldn't stop thinking about everything they had talked about. The effect of Tyler's poetry was so strong, Josh couldn't get the "flightless birds" out of his head.  
His view of the customers changed. An elderly couple. Did they find their worth just in having kids? Giving birth and stuff? A much younger pair. Were they lining their home against a winding road? A man with a beard. Did he think the going was tough? A short-haired girl, listening to music. Did she pick a song nobody cared about?  
And of course, there was always the most terrifying question. Were they, in Tyler´s words, more suicidal than ever?  
Josh had all these questions not only for the random people but also for himself. He didn't want to be a flightless bird, but there wasn't much for him to do with his life. His only creative outlet was drumming although he never considered it very creative. He just played songs other people had written and he wasn't that great either...  
Was this job really the best option for him? Was there nothing more to his life than serving coffee until the day he dies?  
How did it feel for Tyler to be creative? The ground taunted him for his wings... Did Tyler show his poems to someone who hated him for it?  
Tyler was definitely a _strange_ man, at best. But he was being himself... or, at least, Josh assumed so.  
All these questions were constantly running around his mind and Josh was patiently waiting for Tyler to visit again, in hopes of getting rid of them.


End file.
